It's Not Christmas Without the Memories
by the revenge of the octopus
Summary: Jean doesn't see how they can be enjoying themselves when so many people have died.


**A/N: My secret santa gift for the wonderful Tumblr user ravenouswombats. Merry Christmas!**

Some people were cheerful drunks. Others became confused and clingy. And others still didn't get drunk at all. Jean Kirstein didn't fall into any of those categories. He was an angry drunk, and a sullen one, and that fit his personality. The only real change was that his words started slurring and he lost any inhibitions he would normally have about punching people in the face. He also tended to be a sad drunk. The one time the others had seen Jean cry besides Marco's death had been at a party, where he had downed a flask of whiskey and started sobbing for no apparent reason. After that the others had stayed away when he got drunk.

So that Christmas, he tried to minimize the drinking. He didn't really want to have another tear fest in front of the Survey Corps.

When he finally took his first sip, they'd been sitting around the fire for a while. The flask had already been passed around a few times, and he had refused it then, but he could feel the memories encroaching now. He was remembering the last time they'd been around a bonfire. He shook his head, trying to dispel the memory. He didn't want to remember the burning of flesh instead of wood. And after the first sip, he didn't pass anymore.

He had forgotten how many times the flask had gone around before Eren said it.

"You know, maybe we should stop giving Jean the alcohol. We don't want him to explode into tears again."

"Shut the fuck up, Jaeger. We all know how pussy you are. At least I don't sing when I'm drunk."

"At least I don't scream in my nightmares! 'Oh, no, Marco!'"

Jean growled and grabbed the front of Eren's shirt. The little shit had gone too far. "Do _not_ talk to me about Marco." He glared at him before dropping him and walking away from the fire. He didn't say a word. He wasn't worth it.

Mikasa looked up at him, concerned. But he just kept walking, out of the ring of light. It wasn't his fault that every time he closed his eyes he saw Marco's decimated body. He didn't want to remember the Battle of Trost. He didn't want to remember finding Marco's body, his eye gone, his ribs sticking out from his uniform, his blood matted to the wall. He didn't want to remember the fire devouring his bones, the smoke rising and choking him as he tried to mourn his… friend? Lover? He didn't know what category Marco fit into.

It was probably a stupid idea to go out into the forest at night. But he liked the dark. He liked being alone. The forest didn't talk to him.

He sat down against a tree once he thought he had gone far enough. He pressed his palms against the grass, feeling the dew. He began to pick at the grass, pulling it up as he thought.

He shivered, wishing he had had the foresight to bring his cloak. He almost missed the heat of the fire. Almost. He needed more time to think. God, he missed Marco so _bad. _He could have talked to Marco about it, and Marco would have understood exactly what he meant. Marco had seen his friends die, Marco knew the paralyzing fear you felt when you saw a titan come towards you, that moment where your whole body froze, and you just wanted to run. Marco knew about the gore of war. He knew about death. Not that the others didn't. But Marco let him talk about it. Marco acknowledged it.

And now Jean had nobody. Instead of the quiet, beautiful Marco, there was Jaeger. A kid Jean was supposed to trust with his life. He was supposedly humanities only hope, but he was just a spoiled brat who threw temper tantrums when he didn't get what he wanted. He couldn't understand why Mikasa and Armin were friends with him. Really, there were only two things he was good for. Making a lot of noise, and endangering everybody's lives. But he had to acknowledge that he was the only chance they had, no matter how slim it was. They all knew that they couldn't stay hidden within the walls forever. If they did that, the titans would devour them all.

A weight settled next to him.

"Captain Levi," he said curtly. "What are you doing away from the party?"

"Just taking a walk. Honestly, people are quite annoying when they've had too much to drink. And we lost most of our entertainment when you left. What are we supposed to do without you and Jaeger fighting every five seconds?"

Jean snorted. "I don't know, maybe sing some campfire songs? You all look cheerful enough."

"You're even more aggressive than Eren. But you seem to have a better head. So why do you think you're the only one that's tired of death? For members of the Survey Corps, he's not a figure that comes creeping in the dark. He stands in broad daylight, ten meters high, and devours our friends. I'm not asking you to forget about death. Just- god, Jean, I'm not asking you to be jolly and cheerful, okay? Just don't sulk the whole time. You're not making anything better by doing this."

"How can you say that? How can you ask me to be happy when I've seen the corpse of my best friend, when I've seen him burn in a fire with a hundred other bodies? He died alone. I couldn't help him. I could not tell you how many burned out bodies I've seen, how many glassy eyes, how many screams I've heard as a titan bit into one of my comrades. And why don't you feel like this? How can you endure this, being a part of it for so long? How can you stand all this death, how can you still celebrate a holiday?"

"I've seen all those things too! I've seen them a thousand times, unable to do anything to stop them. I've had to make sacrifices as a leader. But to be a leader, you have to be able to move past the pain. You have to be able to function even after everyone you love is dead. It's something that comes with time. I don't think the pain ever gets better, but after a while you learn to ignore it."

"Do you have a heart made of stone? How can you just… ignore something like that? Your whole squad is dead. How can you just move on from that?"

"It takes a lot of alcohol," Levi said simply. He wasn't offended at what Jean had said. "A lot of alcohol, and a lot of distractions. Do you know what this party is, Jean? It's a distraction. I know people think you can be a leader. I'm much more skeptical. But can you make sacrifices? I don't know if you can. Anyone can make plans, but there are only a few prepared to execute them. In some ways, you need a heart of stone."

There was a long silence before Jean spoke. "Do you believe in the afterlife?" His voice was quiet.

"No, I don't. I don't think that there's anything after death. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but I have no doubt that, at least, there is no god. Because what god would let us suffer like this, let us be crushed by the titans, and watch passively? If there were a god, he would be a god of monsters. So no, I don't believe in the afterlife. You should do what's good without the bribery of living in some hyped-up world filled with clouds. If that sounds pessimistic, well, so am I. So is this world."

Jean stood up slowly. "I will never, ever forget Marco," he said, his voice quiet. "But I'll go. I'll sit around that goddamn bonfire and listen to Connie and Annie sing drunk duets if it will help humanity." He smiled slightly, his expression crooked. "Besides, I've heard drinking helps you forget."

**A/N: As always, please review, and I hope you enjoyed! I apologize for the slightly OOC Levi. **


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